


Fox in the Garden/Snake in the Grass

by junko



Category: Bleach
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-02
Updated: 2013-06-02
Packaged: 2017-12-13 16:59:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fourth Division Seated officer Izuru Kira is mopping the floors of the Third Division, when he spies something (or someone?) very curious in the garden...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fox in the Garden/Snake in the Grass

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Gin Ichimaru is always creepy, and I feel like canon Gin/Izuru is a giant trigger waiting to be pulled. That being said, I wrote this with the explicit intention of writing _against_ that trope. Hopefully, I succeeded.
> 
> This fic is also split into two parts for clarity. Part One: Fox in the Garden, encompasses the circumstances and events surrounding of Kira's promotion to lieutenant. (Lots of character building moments.) Part Two: Snake in the Grass, takes place two months into the job. (All the sex.)
> 
> For those reading for the naughty bits, they're (like with all my work it seems) at the very end of all the character and plotty stuff, so you can feel free to skim to the very last space break.

Part One: A Fox in the Garden

 

Kira felt like a failure. Even though it was nearly a year now, his transfer to the Fourth Division still stung like a slap in the face. He’d graduated at the top of his class—one of the very best!--and now he found himself in the least respected division in the entire Thirteen Court Guard… mopping floors.

How had this even happened?

Scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot, Kira sighed. He wanted to blame Renji. Everything changed after that tattooed, red-haired idiot had gotten himself kicked out of the Fifth. But, try as he might, Kira had yet to quantify exactly what it was that Renji had contributed to their trio that had fallen apart so quickly in his absence—his fiery enthusiasm? A big brother-like protective streak? A healthy dose of ‘screw this?’ Kira shook his head as he gave up on the smudge and pushed the mop further down the hallway. 

Poor Renji. Kira wondered how he was doing. He shivered at the thought of living among those wolves in the Eleventh…. 

But, Renji’s leaving hadn’t been the only problem. Captain Aizen had become disappointed in Kira somehow. Kira had seen it in his eyes, trying so hard to be kind and gentle. Discovering a hidden talent for healing had only made things worse, weakened Kira in Aizen’s estimation somehow.

The captain hadn’t said it in so many words, but the implication had been clear. ‘Your personality will mesh better at the Fourth. You can learn so much there. Things I can’t teach you.’

Like how to mop a floor and scrub a toilet, Kira thought ruefully.

At least everyone was kind to Kira at the Fourth. They left him alone. There were very few bullies. Bossy, anal personalities, yes; bullies, no. 

And Captain Unohana had taken Kira’s abilities seriously; she seemed to think he was a real prize, a talent to be nurtured. He’d been assigned to a defensive unit, a rare post, responsible for protecting soldiers under fire. Should his team ever be deployed, Kira trained not only to heal but to use high-level kidō both offensively and defensively, as well as other combat skills. It was, at least, challenging work. And Kira always rose to that sort of challenge, and it showed by his steadily advancing rank.

But what was it to be an upper-level, seated officer in the Fourth? Nothing. No one respected what they did. Not a soul. Not even when they came, injured and weeping to the front gate. That lack of respect was only heightened by the ridiculously demoralizing policy of having to have to kowtow to people they technically outranked.

To top it all off, there were days like today, when he was sent off with a bucket to clean another division’s floor.

Movement in the courtyard garden caught Kira’s attention, drawing him out of his growing funk. Sunlight flashed on a small white-furred form as it darted out from the under a hydrangea bush to perch on a large boulder. It was a stunning animal with black paws, like elegant gloves, and darkly tipped ears: a white fox! A yawn showed off yellowed fangs and the curl of a pink tongue. It shook out its amazing fur, glittering like spun silver, before stretching out a long, lean body to sun itself on the rock. A tiny splash of blood red colored tip of the swishing tail… tails? No a trick of the light. There was only one tail… right?

Kira looked around, wondering if anyone else was seeing this.

When he turned back the fox was gone. Sitting on the rock, instead, was Gin Ichimaru, instantly recognizable with his wispy silver hair and brand-new captain’s haori with the kanji three emblazoned on the back. He was leaning back on his hands, like he, too, was enjoying the feeling of the sun on his face.

Kira had to stifle the sudden urge to duck down and hide. The last thing he wanted was for someone who knew him to see him like this—especially Gin who he so desperately admired. 

But curiosity got the better of him. Where had the fox disappeared to? How had Gin appeared so suddenly?

Not usually so bold, Kira surprised himself by leaning out the doorway and calling out. “Excuse me, Taicho. Did you see a silver fox in the garden a moment ago?”

There was bright laughter. Gin leaned back further to turn his smiling face toward Kira. He was looking at him almost upside down as he pointed to his nose, “I didn’t. But I was busy enjoying the sun.”

“Oh, right.” Kira said, ducking his head, a blush of shame coloring his cheeks. How could he be so rude!? What was he thinking bothering someone important about something so stupid and trivial? “I’m very sorry to have disturbed you, captain.”

“Not at all,” Gin said. Patting a spot on the rock, he beckoned Kira. “My, my, they work you very hard. Take a break and join me.”

Kira shook his head, “I really shouldn’t….”

“I insist,” Gin said. His smile seemed genuinely warm. It’d been a long time since someone had looked at Kira like that. “Besides,” the smile faltered a little at the edges. “I need… help.”

Help? Kira all but dropped the mop in his rush to the captain’s side. “Are you injured, sir?”

Gin shook his head, smiling up at Kira, “No, not really. Broken a bit, but not hurt.”

“Broken? I don’t understand.”

Gin just smiled and then turned his face away. A bony hand patted the spot on the boulder. “Just sit with me for a moment. Put your back up against mine. Let me lean on you.”

Even though he felt foolish, Kira did as Gin asked. Kira had known Gin was tall, but he’d never been quite this close to the captain before. Their height difference was significant—five inches or more. He was able to rest his head at Gin’s shoulders. 

Kira felt very conspicuous in the middle of the courtyard garden. Someone might see them and get the wrong impression. 

In fact, he was about to make his excuses, when Gin sighed wistfully and asked, “Ever have days when you’re tired of pretending to be something you ain’t?”

Even though Gin’s tone was its usual breezy drawl, Kira was struck by a sense of weariness in the words. He wished he could see Gin’s face, but the captain it kept it turned away, towards the sun’s warmth. “No,” Kira admitted shyly. “But I have days when I wish I were something I’m not.”

“Do you? That’s ever so awful… my, my,” Gin started, and then he let out a little groan. Kira felt Gin’s head roll back to clunk against the top of his own. After a beat, Gin added cheerily, “Oops! I forgot to care.”

Oh. It was like this. 

Kira had never had to deal with Gin when he’d been in moods like this back at the Fifth, but he’d heard plenty of stories about the casual cruelty, the inhuman coldness that lashed out sometimes, completely without warning. 

Broken. That’s what he’d said, wasn’t it? That he was ‘broken’? Perhaps, like anything else, it could be fixed.

Kira took in a deep breath and concentrated on that deep, hidden well of warmth. With each inhalation, he drew up some of its energy, and with each exhalation, he pushed it out—out toward Gin. Instead of focusing on a particular wound, Kira let the healing reiatsu spread out to cover Gin like a warm blanket, like sunshine.

Gin let out a deep sigh of pleasure, and lifted his head. “Much obliged, Izuru, but you’re wasting your time. Try as you might, you can’t untwist my soul.” 

“With all due respect, I disagree, sir,” Kira said. Normally such a statement would come out shaky and uncertain, but while in his healing place he was strong, centered. “All wounds can be healed. Even the ones of the heart or… the mind.”

“Aw, ain’t that sweet,” Gin stood up and broke contact so abruptly, Kira nearly toppled over. He stood with his back to Kira, “But, I told you, I’m not hurting. I am this way. You cain’t fix what’s nature.” 

Kira’s head spun from having been so violently interrupted in the middle of healing, but he hated hearing the self-loathing in Gin’s voice. It was too much like his own. “You can change,” he insisted. “When someone cares for you, you can get better.”

“Oh.” Gin sounded surprised, and for a moment Kira thought he’d gotten through to him. But, when he turned around, Gin had painted on that awful smile. His eyes were narrow foxy slits and he’d tucked his hands into the sleeves of his haori. His tone was cheerfully admonishing, “Now, now, you’ll only make things worse with kindness, you know. That’ll never do. You’ll spoil the surprise!”

Surprise? What was Gin talking about? But, realizing he was still half-sprawled out on the rock, Kira pulled himself up and dusted himself off. “I… don’t understand, sir.”

“The surprise is in the caring. Because you are right, caring is why I do what I do. Caring makes me a danger,” Leaning down to and putting that thin, skeletal grin into Kira’s face, Gin patted him on the head. “But, it’s nothing for you to worry your little head over.”

“But I want to help. You said you needed help and I want to help.”

“Oh. I did ask for that, didn’t I?” Gin tapped a claw-like finger against thin lips as though considering something. “Okay,” he said brightly. “Be my lieutenant.”

“What? But, I’m only…”

“Okay, never mind. It was just a thought,” Gin shrugged. He waved good-bye as he walked away. Over his shoulder, he called in a sing-song voice, “I understand why you wouldn’t want to be a lieutenant in a fighting squad! Scrubbing floors is so much more important!”

 

#

Captain Unohana looked deeply concerned. Her normally placid expression creased between her dark eyebrows and the edges of her generous lips turned down slightly. She sat on the floor of her office behind a low desk. Off to the side there was a simple ikebana arrangement of some blue flower Kira didn’t recognize. Otherwise the desk was empty. She sat seiza, with her hands tucked into her sleeves and resting on her knees.

“I wouldn’t normally say this about an opportunity for advancement,” Unohana said, “But I’m afraid you may be making a mistake, Izuru.”

“May I ask why, ma’am?”

Her patient smile returned. “You’ve done very well here, but you could do even better. You have the capability of being very strong—possibly even a phenomenally strong healer. If you stayed a little longer and gave us a little more time, I’m certain we could nurture that strength. Then, you could go wherever you wish… fully armed.”

Fully armed? Why would she say something like that? It wasn’t like Kira was headed into a battle. He’d done his research: a lieutenant’s job was two-thirds paperwork.

And no mopping.

“He needs me now,” Kira explained with a shake of his head. When he asked around, Kira had also discovered that the Third had been without a lieutenant since Gin took captaincy. There had been a number of qualified officers, but every one of them had declined. The division was, in fact, in trouble. Gin wasn’t a stable center, and things would not hold. “The division needs me—well, really, anyone willing to step up to the job… to… to run interference.”

Unohana nodded. Her eyes made it clear she understood the full meaning of what he was saying. “That’s a truly noble attitude, Izuru, and I respect the sentiment. Are you absolutely sure it must be you, right now? In a few years—“

Years? Years of scrubbing toilets? He couldn’t do it. Not when someone actually wanted him for something important. “No!” Then to cover his unseemly outburst, Kira slammed his head to the floor in a deep, supplicating bow. “Please! Captain Unohana, please let me serve where I can be truly useful!”

“I never had the power to stand in the way of your heart’s desire,” she said quietly. “You must go where conscience dictates, but there is a difference, Izuru, between being useful and being used. I hope one day you’ll appreciate that.”

#

It was meant to be a small good-bye party. Kira hadn’t made too many new friends at the Fourth, so he’d picked a quiet akachōchin inside the walls of the Seireitei that catered to shinigami. Though the evening air was cool, it was warm enough that they sat outside on the porch under the softly glowing red lanterns. Everyone was sharing a plate of hiyayakko, chilled silken tofu, topped with tuna flakes and green onions. 

“Oi, you get a major promotion and you don’t even invite us to the party?” 

Kira barely ducked the cuff to his head in time; the swing went wide and smacked the shoulder of the guy sitting next to him, the shy Tenth Seat, Oita Takahiro. Kira craned his neck around to see a broadly smiling Renji Abarai leaning on the railing behind him. Renji had a raw cut on his cheek and a huge purpling bruise on his jaw. The red lights of the lantern made his hair glow like fire even in the dark of the evening. The tattoos were like black slashes on his face and neck. Like all of the Eleventh Division, he was armed even in peacetime. Kira was surprised by the power radiating from the zanpakutō. Renji must be advancing as well.

Oita rubbed his arm and cringed. Looking around nervously at the darkened streets as though expecting an ambush, he whispered, “Oh god, the Eleventh. We’re all going to die.”

“Renji’s not like that,” said Momo Hinamori, who appeared from behind Renji’s back. She smiled prettily, and patted Renji’s arm where it rested on the railing. “Besides, I’ll keep him in line.”

Kira made room for them and introductions all around, though none of his Fourth Division comrades really wanted to move over for Renji so much as shrink away from him. When the waitress came out to see if they needed extra bowls or utensils, she looked nervous to see Renji, too. Kira thought for a moment she might refuse to serve them. But Renji just smiled at her and said proudly, “Can you believe it? My friend’s made lieutenant already.”

“Only because no one else is crazy enough to take the job,” Oita muttered.

“Shut it, you,” Renji snarled. Kira swore he could hear an echoing growl from the zanpakutō, as Renji jabbed finger at Oita, “Or next smack won’t be no accident.”

Oita squeaked and the waitress started backing away. Kira raised his hands for peace. This was why he hadn’t invited Renji; the Eleventh had changed him, made him more aggressive. That, and the fact that Kira could hardly stand to see how battered he looked. 

But, Kira should have known that inviting Momo meant inviting Renji, and that she would brave the Eleventh to bring Renji along. She still imagined the three of them as close.

Momo held on to Renji’s arm with both of hers, as though her tiny frame had any chance of holding him back. But she managed to scold both men. “You don’t need to jump down his throat,” she told Renji, but to Oita she added, “I’m sure you didn’t mean it like that. We all know Kira deserves this promotion.”

But did he?

Kira shrugged and took a long swallow of his beer. “It’s okay. It’s mostly true, anyway. No one else will take the job and it’s not like I have any special qualifications. I honestly have no idea why Captain Ichimaru picked me. The offer came out of the blue, honestly.”

And had been very random. Kira had gone over their meeting a dozen times in his head; each time he did, it made less and less sense.

Helping himself to an empty glass and the pitcher of beer, Renji grunted. “If a captain picked you, that’s all the qualification you need.”

Kira supposed that was true. Perhaps in their brief interaction Gin had seen something in him?

Momo nodded encouragingly, “You’ll be good at it, Izuru. You’re smart and always took good care of us. You’re very organized.”

That should mean a lot coming from Momo who had also gotten the big promotion to lieutenant. So why did it sound like such a backhanded compliment? Since his transfer to the Fourth, Kira noticed how people tended to praise him by mentioning skills that could translate another way as fussy, controlling, or self-important.

Renji was giving Momo a look like he thought she was being a little unkind, too. He shook his head. “I’ll tell you what. Wabisuke kicks ass,” Renji said around a mouthful of tofu. “I wouldn’t want to face him in a dark alley. I count on being able to know how my Zabimaru will twist and turn, if any part was heavier… my whole game would all go off in a hurry and I’d be fucked, but good.” When it locked on Kira’s, Renji’s gaze was intense. The violent, serious intent in Renji’s words made Kira shiver, “My strategy against you would be to disarm or try to cripple you. But, even if I scored a lucky first strike that still wouldn’t take you down. You’ve got all that kidō shit, too. Damn, boy. The Third is getting a strong lieutenant.”

Trust the Eleventh division thug to not only remember Kira’s zanpakutō’s name, but its abilities, as well. 

Renji was still staring at Kira like he was imagining how to kill him. Momo smacked the top of Renji’s head and broke the spell with a cry of, “Renji! Most divisions aren’t so barbaric! I hardly even have to wear Tobiume, thank goodness! Besides, what’s important is that the captain and the lieutenant understand each other. It’s about a melding of personalities, anticipating what he needs and being there for him to support him and make everything run smoothly.”

The stars in Momo’s eyes were almost visibly twinkling.

Kira nodded kindly, but Renji just snorted and rolled his eyes. “The most important thing a lieutenant does is make sure there’s toilet paper,” Renji announced seriously. Then he started counting things off on his fingers, “And bandages… and beer--though you can’t requisition that last one from the Quartermaster General. Believe me, we’ve tried.”

Everyone laughed. Then conversation turned to other things, and Kira found that he was happy to catch up after all this time. The three of them were still easy friends--even if Renji seemed to have fallen into some kind of thuggish Gotei hell. Aizen had been right; the Eleventh did, at least, seem to suit him.

Maybe captains knew what they were doing, after all.

#

“Do you know what you’re doing, Gin? We had Izuru positioned perfectly.”

“Tell me, Sōsuke, ain’t you never taken something you wanted just ‘cuz you could?”

Kira hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, especially not on his first day. But he’d gone to investigate his new office. The Third had a lovely set-up. The captain and the lieutenant had adjoining rooms, separated by a large double-door. The smaller lieutenant’s office was dominated by a Western-style desk and chairs, made of polished wood that gleamed in the sunlight streaming in from the courtyard. It was so grand and tidy and important-looking that Kira had been drawn in instantly. He’d admired everything, and had started flipping through the regulation manuals when the two captains had swept into the next-door captain’s office. The sliding doors between the rooms were wide open, so he could hear every word perfectly. Kira, meanwhile, was obscured behind a bookcase near the exit, out of their line of sight.

“You know I have,” Aizen purred in a voice Kira had never heard him use before. It didn’t sound like his usual mild-mannered self. Kira wished he could see Aizen’s face, as the captain continued, “But such self-indulgence is risky.”

“Risky?” Gin laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Is clever Sōsuke suddenly afraid of a tiny, little mouse?”

“Of course not,” Aizen sniffed. “But you know the danger of having someone close to you.”

There was a long silence that felt tense to Kira. He held his breath.

Then, Gin sighed impatiently. “I don’t see what it matters if I swallow up some squeaky-toy. A mouse like that is hardly even a mouthful. It takes dozens of little ones to make a decent meal for something like me.”

“I suppose you have a point.”

“I have many points. Watch yourself, Sōsuke. Some of them are very sharp.”

#

Near the end of his first shift as Lieutenant of the Third, Kira knocked on the door frame between the offices. When there was no immediate answer, he stuck his head in and said, “I’m disturbing you, Taicho?”

Gin was sitting on the top of his desk, his feet in the seat of his chair, his pointy chin resting against his long, bony hands. He was hunched over, staring out at the moon rising over the courtyard. Silver light bathed his hair and the haori, making them shimmer, like a ghost. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge Kira, as he asked, “And how was your first day, Lieutenant Mouse?”

“Uh… fine, sir,” Kira said, blushing. It seemed obvious that Gin had known that he’d overheard the earlier conversation with Captain Aizen. “I… uh, that is, I think I have the paperwork in order.”

“Hmm, how pleasant for you,” he drawled, uninterested.

Kira stood for a moment at the threshold uncertain if he’d been given permission to enter or not. Was there some sort of protocol he didn’t know? Did the captain prefer to sign his mark in the morning? Was there some place Kira was supposed to leave finished work so not to bother the captain with it?

“You can come in, you know. I do bite.”

Kira took a step inside, and was surprised by how fresh the captain’s office smelled—almost like a forest with a strong smell of cedar pine needles. Then Kira realized the windows behind the desk had been opened to let in the night air. “Aren’t you cold, Taicho?”

“Very.”

“Let me shut those for you,” Kira said, starting for the windows.

“No, the air is nice. It’s only my soul that’s unfeeling and frozen.”

Kira stopped, suddenly realizing the other difference with the captain’s office. Not a single lamp had been lit. Gin was perched on his desk in the pitch darkness, with only the moonlight as illumination. Kira was so surprised by that, he hadn’t followed what Gin had said, “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be. Ain’t no one’s fault,” Gin said, hopping off his desk, he gave Kira an eerie smile in the darkness. “You’ve got me a present, I see. Pretty busywork. All organized and sorted in neat little bundles. My favorite! Shall we play stamp the papers?” Gin reached into the drawer of his desk and retrieved his inkan and red ink. He patted the large oak desk surface. “Lay them all out. Let’s see how fast I can do ‘em.”

“Don’t… don’t you need to know what you’re signing?” Kira asked, clutching the papers protectively to his chest. He’d worked all day on these! He’d spent hours pouring over the regulation books just to make sure he’d gotten everything perfect. 

Gin cocked his head at Kira for a long moment. Then, he waggled a finger admonishingly at him, “My little mouse ain’t secretly a fox, now is he? You ain’t planning to drain my bank account, are ya?”

“What? No! No, sir!”

“Well then, bring ‘em over,” he smiled. Kira thought, perhaps, this one was slightly more genuine. 

Kira approached the desk and began laying out the paperwork. 

“I’m grateful for you, you know?” Hands, cold and thin, dropped on Kira’s shoulders. The voice in his ear made him jump. “I ain’t never had much interest in all this reading and writing business.”

Not interested? “But, sir… you graduated Academy in a single year. It’s unheard of! Until you, no one had ever done it before. You’re a prodigy!”

“Prodigy,” Gin snarled. Releasing Kira’s shoulders, he plopped himself down in his chair, propping long legs on the corner of the table. He moved his butt, making the chair swivel. Leaning his elbow on the armrest, Gin tipped his head to look up at Kira. “So everyone told me. Flattery. Empty words. Jealousy.”

Jealousy? But, that one Kira could understand. Whenever he talked about his elite classes at Academy, he’d gotten that too. “Still, you must be proud.”

“Proud? Of what? Answering all their questions just the way they wanted to hear ‘em. That ain’t no skill, more like a parlor trick. Anyways, I had the key to open any door in the Soul Society: bankai.”

“You had bankai? Before Academy?!” Kira breathed excitedly. No wondered Gin had been advanced so quickly through the regular courses! “But…wait, when did you get Shinsō?”

“My people are thieves, Izuru,” Gin said patiently, as though stating something obvious, “Takers, stealers, and cheats. I knocked on the Academy doors in full shihakushô, dear mouse. Seems to me zanpakutō is part of the uniform, though not one soul ever asked me how I come by either of ‘em. I guess a little detail like that ain’t nearly as important as power, now is it?”

Kira couldn’t stop the words that tumbled from his mouth, “You… killed someone?”

“Maybe I found him dead,” Gin said, as though offering a suggestion rather than an answer. Pulling his legs off the desk, he stood up with an unconcerned shrug. “Or I chewed his throat open. Hard to know.”

The casual admittance deeply frightened Kira. What was Gin? Not human, he was coming to believe. 

Gin turned to stare out the window again, but he flashed his evil smile at Kira, “There, there. Did I make you squeak, little mouse?”

Kira frowned. He was getting very irritated by the whole mouse thing. His fists curled at his side. “Why did you choose me as your lieutenant, Taicho?”

Gin seemed to pause. Even though his expression didn’t change, Kira thought, perhaps, he’d made Gin blink. “Because you’re warm, like the sun on my face,” he said simply. “And I am cold... so, very, very cold.”

Impulsively, Kira wrapped Gin in a hug. He let his arms encircle the bone-thin body of the captain, and squeezed tight, but gently. Gin let out a gasp, like the physical contact hurt him, but then he seemed to relax into Kira’s arms.

“Look at you, my brave little heart,” Gin murmured, “Willing to embrace a monster who will only destroy you.”

“Shut up,” Kira said softly, once again imbuing his touch with healing reiatsu. “Let me hold you.”

Gin’s only response was to shift slightly, so that they faced one another, and he let his sharp chin rest on the top of Kira’s head. He breathed deeply, as if taking in air after having been underwater too long, and let it out like a painful, agonizing sigh that nearly broke Kira’s heart with its sadness.

Kira didn’t care what anyone else said, even Gin. He would fix this soul. Or he would die trying.

 

 

Part Two: A Snake in the Grass  
Two months later….

 

It started innocently enough, Kira supposed. Whenever the captain spoke of being cold, Kira would embrace him and breathe a little healing energy into him. 

Some days, when things were especially bad, Kira contrived to stay in the captain’s quarters and hold him throughout the night. The two of them would lay together, fully-dressed, wrapped in each other’s arms, clinging tightly. Gin slept like a child—his long, lanky body curled in a ball, silvery-hair tucked up tight against Kira’s wildly ticking heart.

Kira rarely slept those nights. How could he? With Gin like that--so… so in need of protection and comfort? Instead, he was lay awake and stroke silver hair, soft and wildly musky-scented, like fur.

Though no one would believe it, Kira had been the one to make the first move--a kiss, which Gin returned hesitantly, maddeningly sweet, but tasting of blood. 

Kira had thought about that kiss for two weeks. 

Everything about it occupied his mind. It had been nothing like anything he’d ever experienced before. Tremulous and brief, it was heartbreaking. It felt as if Gin had let a tiny bit of his soul out and, instead of finding a monster, Kira had uncovered a shy, frightened, deeply wounded… thing. 

Kira ached to see that side of Gin again, but there’d been nothing more, not for days, even though Kira had tried, several times, to show his willingness. Tonight, it was hot—far too hot for clothes, or so Kira had complained. It was a clumsy seduction ever. Kira knew it. In fact, his cheeks still burned at how heartlessly his attempt had been mocked, and how Gin had cruelly allowed him to stand there for so long, hopeful and eager. 

And such a tease, the captain had been!--slowly undressing himself, only leave the most intriguing and long awaited bits covered as he changed into a yakuta. The dressing gown was gorgeous, at least. The silken fabric was as silver as his hair, with ghostly white foxes cavorting across the back and sleeves in an almost invisible procession.

Despite the teasing, Kira had stubbornly refused to be shamed into tears or running away, and instead had simply lay down just as he was, completely naked. Though, somewhat awkwardly and blushing furiously, he’d covered himself with the sheet. 

Gin’s smiled widened at Kira’s attempt to retain his dignity, but he’d slid into his usual position. Gin pressed closely against Kira’s nude body, his head tucked just under Kira’s chin, as usual. 

No words had been exchanged the whole time. Kira’s heart ticked in his throat, as it always did, at the tantalizing nearness of his captain’s body. Nerves kept Kira’s hands frozen and unmoving where they clasped the back of Gin’s sleeping gown. 

They continued to lay in silence for several more minutes. Finally, Gin let out that sigh he often did when in Kira’s embrace, sounding a bit like he was taking a breath after holding it for too long. 

Gin looked up—smiling, of course. Then, he drawled, “Why you so anxious to be devoured by my love, little one? I ain’t gonna do nothing but eat you up and spit you out. You’re my only sunshine, Kira.” A claw-like finger pulled a strand of hair from Kira’s face and twirled it as though spinning gold. “If I ruin that, all goes dark.”

That was, Kira knew, at least partly a lie. He couldn’t stop the jealousy from creeping in as he asked, “What about Rangiku?”

“Aw, listen to you, you’re already lost, ain’t ya, lamb?” Gin pulled the blankets away from Kira’s body. Fingers, like talons, trailed along naked, exposed skin, moving slowly down spine until they came to rest lightly on the swell of Kira’s ass possessively. “You don’t got to be jealous of my Ran-chan. She’s broken like me. She got broke a long time ago by someone I swore to kill.”

Kira tentatively petted Gin’s hair, so much like the softest fur, and whispered, “Aizen.” 

Gin pulled back sharply and opened his alien, crystal blue eyes momentarily, shocked. Then, he recovered quickly, and put on his mask of a smile. “Well, well, ain’t you the clever one? I was wrong about you. You’re no mouse. You’re a smart, sneaky little rat--maybe even a weasel.”

It sounded like an insult, but Kira suspected that he’d just gone up in Gin’s estimation. 

A guess proved true by a sudden, strong kiss that engulfed Kira’s whole mouth. Gin’s bruising passion made Kira’s lips tingled with desire, even as his tongue tasted that horrible ever-present, coppery tang of blood. Gin’s hand tightened around Kira’s ass, while the other snaked under the pillow to tangle in strands of his hair. 

This was not the tentative captain from before!

Too surprised to even move, Kira’s heart hammered in his chest, and his cock, which had given up all hope, stirred again in arousal.

As breathtaking as it was, in this intense kiss there was no fleeting moment of openness-- only powerful, almost smothering heat. In fact, Kira felt as though he were struggling for breath. If the kiss went on much longer, he thought he might suffocate. Just when Kira was ready to flail out in momentary panic, Gin pulled back.

Gin’s hand clutched hard at the back of Kira’s head dangerously, “So what gave me away, clever rodent?”

“You tell him,” Kira said trying to meet that slippery, non-existent gaze, as he panted, trying to catch his breath. “You tell Aizen you’ll kill him almost every day, but he never hears you; he never believes you.”

“But you do?” That smile was cold and frighteningly evil.

“I believe everything you say,” Kira explained, “Even the lies. Because, your lies are riddles, they’re like puzzle pieces of the truth.”

“Oh dear, oh dear, two months with me and you already have the full picture,” Gin drawled. At the back of Kira’s neck, Gin’s grip tightened, making Kira gasp. Fingernails dug into the flesh there, but the other hand that still rested on his butt made slow, seductive swirls. Kira’s ass squirmed, making mini thrusts, even as his neck was held firmly in place. “No wonder Sōsuke wanted to keep you as a scullery maid in the Fourth. You really are the top of your class. What are you, some kind of prodigy?”

“Don’t,” Kira whispered, his hand leaving Gin’s back to grasp the arm that held the back of his neck. “I love that about you.”

Gin’s fingers loosened, leaving his neck to to crawl through his hair. He laughed lightly, “Dear weasel-boy, that’s my biggest lie!”

“I know. But, it’s also the truth.”

“Is it now?” Gin sounded disinterested. His fingers twirled up strands of Kira’s hair until they snagged and pulled. The other continued to play on the skin of his butt, “How so?”

Kira was most afraid of what he was about to say now. Gin might kill him. But, Kira wanted him to know that it didn’t matter what he was. He… loved him. Taking a deep breath, Kira said, “You must be very powerful to pass as human for so long. I only ever saw your tails once, when you didn’t know I was watching, in the garden, that first day in the Third.”

“Oh, how I hate when Sōsuke is right,” Gin drawled, though his hands had gone frighteningly still and motionless. “He always says if I let people too close they’ll see. Oh dear, dear. Whatever shall we do we do now?”

There was a tense moment of silence. 

“How about we go with your idea? Sex!” Gin offered, giving Kira’s ass a light spank. “Let’s make love!”

“What?” 

Was this one of Gin’s cruel jokes?

But, Gin snuggled close again. His lips nibbled at Kira’s lips until Kira opened them for him. Tongue played against teeth, drawing out a moan. Hands gripped tightly, but then seemed to make another deliberate, conscious effort to be careful, gentle. 

And then Kira felt it, a sudden hesitation, a crack in the stone of the mask. Gin’s hands shook with real emotion.

Pulling away to nibble at ear and throat, Gin’s breath tickled Kira’s skin, causing shivers to ripple down Kira’s body. He seemed cautious, curious and exploratory as his tongue flicked out to taste and tease.

Kira’s heart soared. He moaned with deep, deep pleasure, and clutched at Gin’s yakuta encouragingly.

Gin’s lips were against Kira’s ear. “You know what I love even more? When Sōsuke’s full of shit.” A hand trailed, infuriatingly softly, around exposed and naked thigh, moving tantalizingly close to Kira’s anxiously twitching cock. “You knew, itachi-kun, and yet you still came here ready to offer yourself up. You even told me you knew, which must mean you’ve kept my secret safe.”

“Yes, and I always will,” Kira breathed in gulping breaths, trying not to throw himself at Gin’s hand, which made teasing, slow progress towards Kira’s cock.

Gin continued to nibble at Kira’s throat, as he asked, “Always? Even when your friends all tell you I’m a creep and you shouldn’t let me abuse you?”

“Even then,” Kira said, thinking how they already did that. Fingers pulled at pubic hair, and Kira moaned.

Finally, Gin’s hand curled around Kira’s hardening cock. “You’ll keep my secret even after the whispers start and your decent little heart wants just one other person to know?”

“Yes,” Kira gasped, clapping his hands on Gin’s shoulders, as Gin’s hand started to move—so cold against achingly hot, desperate cock. But, there a touch of insecurity in Gin’s grip that was endearingly vulnerable, that made Kira hard. He thrust into Gin’s hand, encouragingly, “Oh! Even then!”

The strokes grew faster, making Kira’s head spin. Kira was shuddering already; he’d be finished in a second. 

Gin’s other hand snaked around to tweak stiffening nipple, pulling and pinching and flicking in the most painful/pleasurable way. “Even after it all falls apart and they’re torturing you for the truth about me?”

“Yes! Yes, even then,” Kira moaned, embarrassed at the way his body arched into Gin’s touch, so shamefully desirous for more. Kira’s body felt like it was on fire, but he didn’t want it to stop burning him up.

Gin’s lips found skin and began to suck. Kira thought he might die from pleasure overload between hands and mouth. All he could do was writhe helplessly under the onslaught. His skin was flushed and screamingly hot, and he panted and begged wordlessly.

“And after I’ve betrayed you?” Gin’s words were like ice, cutting through Kira’s passionate fever. “When I’ve degraded you, used you, and thrown you away? Will you still keep my secret?”

“I will,” Kira said, coming in a shuddering rush. “I will,” he panted, his fingers so tightly bunch in the silk at Gin’s shoulders, he was in danger of ripping it. As the last tremor of pleasure shot through him, he said, “Oh god, I swear I will!”

Gin licked his fingers clean. “Hmm, all right. I’ll keep you.”

**Author's Note:**

> And he does keep it... except, of course, in the omake, particularly in BLEACH: SOULS, where every time someone asks for something to represent the Third Division Kira shouts out or holds up a SILVER FOX.


End file.
